A cheap dance hall filled with crowds of people
dazzled by bright lights, music and smoke.
In this jammed dance hall
I found you dancing heartily
with small, groovy steps.

You were a cheeky type, like a kitten,
a sleek, stray cat.
You kept dancing all the time.

You drank whiskey and water affecting a snobby air
and lighted a cigarette with practiced gestures,
nodding slightly only to clever remarks.
Taking another whiskey and water
you made a toast for no reason.
‘That’s life’ you said with a smile,
but I could see it was forced.

Slightly drunk, you became lost in thought,
a dreamy-eyed girl.
I imagined you didn’t want to wake at all.

“When I started to rebel, it was to small things.
I thought I was being influenced by my boyfriend, but it was my real nature.
I left school, I’m working now.
I can’t be carefree as I was when I wore long skirts.*
I look a bit drunk… I talked too much.
But I can’t say in all honesty
that it isn’t all about the money.”

You wound up forgetting even yesterday night’s loving words.
Will you look for them again tonight?
…as you leave behind the sad shadows…
I can see the daily drudgery has drained you.
You could sleep on my chest.
Yes, you, lonely dancer.

[*Japanese school girls who want to act ‘rebellious’ usually wear longer uniform skirts]

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